What We Are
by Ginseng2
Summary: Heroes. Villains. Murderers. Saviours. These are merely titles, names we give to the few that stand out in this world. But behind every mask, every ideal, every hero, is a story. We write our stories, we end them too, sometimes destiny intervenes, or perhaps fate, maybe even God. Or sometimes? Just damn fool luck.


**Chapter 1: Fireworks**

The sky was on fire.

Eyes had ascended towards the moon, the glare of fireworks littered the sky as smoke and the lingering scent of gunpowder had filled the air. A cacophony of colour and sound had taken the focus of the crowd below. Cheers erupted from the populace, almost rivalling the explosions as palettes of blue, red and yellow shattered across the sky, luminescent trails of light slowly fading into the darkness, their place to be taken by a new eruption in but a moments time.

Hanzo hated fireworks.

They were distracting, bright and illuminating, noisily whining across the sky to burst in a smoggy and blinding display, only to irritate the eye with saturated colours. The corners of his mouth turned downwards as he raised a hand to clear the air of the acrid stench of saltpetre. Celebrations was something the eldest Shimada seldom participated in, much rather preferring to bide his time alone with tea and a book. But he had a duty to perform, even if his charge was not aware of it.

"Mister Shimada?"

His vision snapped over his shoulder, a hand reaching for his storm bow before coming to a brief halt. A familiar face observed him from across the rooftop, her fingers still gripped around the doorknob of the fire escape. The mercenary grunted, his hand returning to his lap as the woman blinked at him, almost shocked at his appearance.

"Miss Zhou," he mused calmly. "What brings you here?"

The Xi'an native composed herself, bowing gently before approaching him, her small robotic companion following behind her, a trail of cloudy frost lingering in its wake. "Parties can become quite loud," she replied, a smile on her features. "Sometimes it is nice to get away from the talking." A hand extended to the spot beside the archer, the man responding with a curt nod.

"May I ask the same question to you, Mister Shimada?" she inquired, kneeling beside him on the polished bamboo floor. He turned to her for a moment, greeted by the climatologist's friendly expression, another curt nod following her request.

"I am watching over someone important to me, while they enjoy the festivities." Her head tilted in surprise, her curiosity piqued at the thought.

"Might I ask who this person is?"

The ghost of a smile grew on his lips, the fireworks he had abhorred now but a dull droning in his ears. Amber eyes scanned the crowd with a marksman's precision, eventually to fall on two figures in the busy marketplace. One was a slender woman, donning a traditional straight dress, its crimson fabric adorned with golden birds and flowers. Walking beside her was a cyborg, clad in a charcoal jacket customary to the Chinese people. Even from his distant vantage, he would see the smile on his uncovered face, happily conversing with the woman, who's arm was linked with his.

Mei did not have to hear the name to know who he talked of, her eyes too falling on the pair, unable to resist a light giggle. She had met the younger Shimada months prior, when Overwatch was secretly re-activated, drawing a multitude of people, herself included, together to halt an attack on the Omnic population of England. Doctor Ziegler and herself had not been actively present during the battle, prominently due to the risk of being identified with their significant public statuses, but oversaw the operation from within a mobile control centre established within the London railway station. Both Shimadas, ex-captain Amari, Lena Oxton and Winston had spearheaded the assault against the Talon strike force that attempted to escort an electromagnetic bomb into the heart of the Omnic living quarters, barely being defeated by the team before local law enforcement arrived. "Why do you think you must watch over his actions?"

"My brother, and Doctor Ziegler, are both valued targets to our enemies," he replied, the half-smile on his face returning to its normal scowl. "A crowded environment such as this, especially with those horrendous fireworks above us, could mask a rifle shot, or hide an assassin."

Her eyes widened as his attention returned to the streets and lower buildings, any form of enjoyment or festivity guised underneath a vigilant expression. "Don't you think you deserve to enjoy this festival too, Mister Shimada?"

"Celebrations are not my concern, Miss Zhou," he muttered. "I must ensure my brother is safe."

She turned to her electronic friend. It had perched itself on the elevated ridge of the roof, it's screen blank, conserving power with its sleep function. Her gaze lowered to the embroidered cuffs of her dress, fingers playing with the golden hem. "You must love your brother very much, mister Shimada."

Hanzo felt as if a cold breeze had washed over his exposed skin, shivering at the words she uttered. He loved Genji, he always had, possibly even more than their father did, but that love did not make the eldest brother hesitate to end his life when he was ordered to. "It is the least I may do for him, for I am the precursor to his suffering."

An eyebrow raised at the words, a hand moving close to him, yet hesitating, instead placing itself beside his on the floor. "I am familiar with your confrontation," she admitted, earning a somewhat surprised glance from the archer. "Your brother told me of what happened."

A scoff left his lips as the archer, lowered his head, staring at the lacquered, bamboo floor beneath them. "I should not be surprised; my brother has a mouth which flows like an ocean wave."

Mei allowed a gentle laugh to escape, received by a hesitant smile on Hanzo's face. "He seemed to care much for you, and spoke well of you."

"Perhaps," he replied, a visage of sadness slowly creeping onto his features. "But I am beyond redemption for my actions."

She watched as he dipped his head, eyes closed in what she could only describe as grief and shame. Her heart sank at the sight of the proud warrior, looking to her hand, which lay next to his own so passively. Slowly, her fingers crept onto his, squeezing his hand comfortingly. "Everyone can be forgiven, mister Shimada. But you must forgive yourself first."

"How can I?" he asked, his voice no louder than a whisper, almost inaudible over the activity below them. "I destroyed my brother."

"Have you truly?" Mei inquired, a hand reaching to his chin, lifting his head to the crowd. In the distance, doctor Ziegler and Genji were seated on a bench, what seemed to be a carton of candied chestnuts lain between them, laughing together, their fingers interwoven. "Perhaps you have hurt your brother, but even the worst scars may fade."

Gently releasing him from her grasp, she placed her hands on her lap, looking towards the silver moon that shone above them, a glimmer in her eye. "My mother once told me, that we can never escape pain, or sadness in this world. It will come and go, and sometimes you may avoid it, but we will always in the end feel sadness."

The marksmen watched her, how she almost drank in the moons silver light, embracing the cool wind that played with her gowns. Minutes passed, before she returned her attention to him, placing a hand on his bare chest. "But when we feel pain, or loss, we learn from it. We become better people, for we learn from our tragedies."

The former heir of the Shimada family slowly tore his eyes away from her, returning his gaze to his brother. Eyes focused on the scars that plagued his face, the tubes and plating that ran across his neck. Then, he noticed the cybernetic hand that was locked with human ones, and the warmth, the glimmer in his eye, as he laughed and conversed with the doctor. "Perhaps," he mused, his voice calm and soft. "In time, we may both heal."

Something brushed against his fingers, turning to see a red envelope beside him. Mei had already stood, a warm smile directed towards him, genuine and pleased. "I hope you do, mister Shimada."

The sides of his mouth upturned, the heat from his cheeks barely visible. "Please, miss Zhou. You may call me Hanzo."

"Then, you may call me Mei." Her words punctuated with a playful wink.

A low chuckle wafted into the night as he bowed his head to her. "Of course, Mei."

With a wave, she began to walk away, returning to the fire escape she had entered from, her robot following her. Yet it wasn't until she had her hand on the doorknob, that she turned to him for a final time. "If you would please, Hanzo. Perhaps we may talk more over tea tomorrow?"

The Shimada returned her a wave and a smile. "It would be an honour."

He watched her leave, then returning his gaze to the sky once more, hands opening the red envelope she had left for him. An eyebrow raised as its contents fell into his palm, two plastic wrapped biscuits, almonds placed in the centre of them. He lay one aside, tearing open the other and bringing it to his lips. While he was not one who enjoyed sweets often, it was rich and buttery, the flavour of almond pleasing his senses as the first fireworks ascended into the sky once more.

Perhaps they weren't so bad after all.

* * *

 _Hey! Thanks for reading my first Overwatch story! Well, first on here at least. Apologies if I didn't get their characters too well, writing Mei specifically is very new to me. Anyway, remember that this series will focus on the RELATIONSHIPS of the champions, that being platonic, romantic or anywhere in between, even animosity at times._

 _The next chapter released will be on our good doctor and our favourite cyborg (as well as my OTP) Gency!_

 _\- Redgum._


End file.
